


It's A Wonderful Lie

by raendown



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Obligatory Christmas Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 00:13:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16923045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: That Madara made up a pretend boyfriend was funny. That he's been using this pretend boyfriend as an excuse to get out of social engagements all year was hilarious. That he asks Tobirama to stand in and pretend to be his fake boyfriend for a work party ends up being less amusing.





	It's A Wonderful Lie

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to copyninken for helping with the title!

Tobirama was doing nothing more than sitting at the kitchen table innocently eating his bowl of cereal when the front door slammed open and Madara whirled in to their home with all the fire and energy he brought to everything he did. Such a sight wasn’t exactly rare despite the early hour so he didn’t even bother to raise his eyes from the morning paper, assuming the man was here to discuss the latest disaster in his life with Hashirama who was much more likely to offer sympathy than Izuna.

It was a great surprise to have two hands slam down in front of him, very nearly upsetting his cereal bowl, and a face with wild eyes shoved up close to his own. Madara’s intense features were slightly alarming when viewed from up close at six o’clock in the morning.

“You’re coming with me as my date to the Christmas work party,” Madara announced without preamble. Hashirama swooned against the counter but Madara pointed a finger backwards at his best friend without looking. “No. Not like that. I am not _asking you out_ but you _are_ coming with me because I can’t think of anyone else who won’t have plans on such short notice.”

“What on earth made you think _I_ would agree?”

“Just do it! Okay!? I have a…a situation. And I need help.” He ground out the last few words from between his teeth, wrinkling his nose at the taste of them. Tobirama lifted one eyebrow with growing interest.

“Hmm. Is it embarrassing? Perhaps it would be more worth it to simply let this situation play itself out. For me, of course. I do so love to watch you squirm.”

Madara snarled and snatched the spoon out of his hands to brandish it threateningly. “You’re coming with me! I will not be made a liar in front of my entire office. And you’re perfect for the part with your stupid hermit tendencies; they’ll swallow the whole thing if it’s _you_.”

“What part? What madness are you trying to drag me in to?” Tobirama stole his spoon back and shoveled down another quick bite just in case it was taken again. Breakfast was an important meal for someone who frequently forgot to eat lunch. He was fascinated to see the man in front of him morph from just angry to angrily mortified at his words, an expression that could only mean good things for him.

“I’ve been skipping work parties and social engagements all bloody year by claiming I am busy with my boyfriend.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend.”

“They don’t know that! So now my boss is demanding that I bring this imaginary partner with me to the work party and I don’t have an excuse this time. He keeps changing the bloody date whenever I say we’ll be busy, the stupid accommodating asshole!”

“Oh dear me.” Tobirama plucked his bowl off the table to keep it safe and sat back in his chair with a grin. “What a pickle you seem to have gotten yourself in to.”

Hashirama was still quiet on the other side of the room, lounging against the sink with a thoughtful expression as he tried to muddle out whether he was thrilled or upset about what was happening in front of them. Tobirama dearly hoped his brother would remain quiet. He didn’t need any personal secrets getting blurted out while their present company was still here.

“Name your price, Senju,” Madara growled.

“That is…a dangerous question.”

“Anything. I swear, anything. No, shut up, not the Porsche, anything _except_ the Porsche.” Dark eyes narrowed suspiciously but he remained stubbornly bent over in to his prey’s personal space, desperate for an agreement and clearly not leaving until he got one.

Tobirama took another bite of cereal to give himself some time to think. Free reign to ask for whatever he wanted was indeed a dangerous thing to offer him but not in the way Madara was probably thinking.

“I’ll tell you what, Uchiha. You let me hold off on deciding my price and I’ll accompany you to your little work party. If you’re nice to me until then I might even put in the effort to make it seem like I care about your worthless hide.” Scooping out the final bite of his breakfast, he slid out from underneath Madara’s sharp stare and dropped his bowl in the sink. Unfortunately that put him directly in Hashirama’s path where his brother could pin him in place with a look he was disgustingly familiar with. Out of the frying pan and in to the fire.

“Done. Fine. As long as you show up and look half decent.” Madara straightened and clawed his hair out of his eyes. “At least try to look like someone I would consider worth dating.” With that last parting shot he turned and swept back out the front door with as much drama as he had slammed in through it before.

Tobirama managed two very large steps away before Hashirama’s voice made him cringe, sigh, and then turn to face the inevitable.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“It’s just a bit of playing pretend.”

“Exactly. Are you sure you’re alright with that? I think we both can see how this is going to end and you know I hate seeing you get yourself hurt.” Hashirama reached out to lay a hand on his arm but Tobirama shrugged it off and stepped farther away.

“At some point you’re going to have to accept that I am a grown man and I know what I’m doing.”

It would have ruined the effect of storming off if he acknowledged that he heard his brother’s fading voice murmuring, “What you’re doing is asking for pain.”

Considering how disorganized Madara usually was, he really should have expected that he wouldn’t be given much time to prepare himself for the upcoming event. Or perhaps he only had himself to blame for not listening to Hashirama ramble on over the dinner table more often. The two of them worked together; if he had only stopped his head from wandering off for just a few nights then he might have had more than a week of warning to make himself ready for a Christmas party in an office that wasn’t decorated by filling beakers with festively colored chemicals.

On Tuesday he slipped out of work early to bring his best suit to the dry cleaners and spent an hour laying all of his ties out across his bed so he could pick which one to wear. On Wednesday he remembered he was actually supposed to be a serious date for Madara rather than making fun of him and switched out the gaudy yellow monstrosity he’d chosen for a red and black striped number that Mito once gave him as a birthday present.

Thursday came with a slight panic attack as he remembered he should probably shine his shoes, still bearing a light scuff from the last time he’d worn them and kicked Hashirama in to a wall for forcing him to dance with their grandmother at Kawarama’s wedding. It took a bit of elbow grease but he managed to get them back to a perfect shine, good enough to see his own reflection in them, and it was at that point he wondered if perhaps he was putting a little too much effort in to this. Tossing his shoes in to the corner – gently – he prayed Madara would not guess all the trouble he had gone to for such a stupid little favor as this one.

He spent the entirety of Friday checking the clock every five minutes until his coworkers banded together and kicked him out of the lab, telling him to go home and deal with whatever was distracting him. Tobirama was sitting at the kitchen table fidgeting pointlessly when Hashirama finally came home.

“Excited for tonight?” he asked sarcastically. Tobirama glared.

“Shut up.”

“Do you want to tag along in my car? You’ll have to sit in the back; I’m pick up Mito on the way.”

“No,” Tobirama shook his head. “I told Madara I would pick him up like a real date would.”

Hashirama pinched his lips together in disapproval but miraculously said nothing else, for which Tobirama was grateful. He already sort of regretted agreeing to this and a lecture was not at all what he needed to hear at the moment.

Dinner was quiet despite how loudly Hashirama managed to project his opinion with facial expressions alone. Tobirama took one look at him and disappeared in to his own thoughts to mentally prepare himself for the night ahead. He was going to have to be openly emotional, something he generally abhorred, but that was their agreement and he hated the thought of going back on his word even more, although that was mostly just stubborn pride. It wasn’t like Madara’s opinion of him could lower much farther. The two of them had never been close in any sense of the word, spending time together largely because neither of them possessed large social circles, choosing Hashirama most of the time when they felt like human company.

After they had both eaten Hashirama hurried off to make himself look perfect for Mito and Tobirama shuffled off to his room as well, dragging his feet like a reluctant child. If he was allowed his opinion he thought the black suit and black shirt looked incredible with his pale skin tone, the splash of color from his tie drawing attention in a line all the way up to his eyes. Were he hoping to impress anyone this would probably have done it.

Hashirama was already gone by the time he slumped downstairs again to pull his shoes on. Social events like this had never been his favorite thing in the world and he was going to be spending his entire evening with emotions on full display. He’d known when he agreed to it that he was looking forward to hours of making himself uncomfortable and the closer the party got the more he began to wonder if the reward he planned to ask for was worth it. With twenty minutes to get there he had pretty much run out of time to reconsider.

A pity that only now he was finally able to come up with a hundred different great excuses that would have released him from the coming torture.

Madara answered the door in a suit that accentuated all sorts of interesting things. Were Tobirama a lesser man he would have dropped his jaw but luckily he was able to retain enough of his dignity to express himself with a single cough of surprise. His ‘date’ looked him up and down in mild disbelief as they stood in the open doorway.

“Well would you look at that,” Madara declared in place of a greeting. “Who would have thought you, of all people, would clean up so nice. You actually look decent, Senju.”

“I wish I could say the same of your hair,” Tobirama drawled in response.

Then he cringed because Madara’s wild mane had been brushed out to perfection and rippled down his back like dark velvet, practically begging for someone to bury their fingers within. It was entirely unfair.

“Ready to be my besotted lover?”

“Are you ready to pretend you like me for a few hours?” Tobirama made sure his expression didn’t change as Madara laughed. “Remember, I’m the one doing you a favor. You still owe me.”

“If you ever tell me what I owe you then I will gladly pay my debts.”

“Tell you when I drop you off later. I want to savor the pain in your eyes until then.”

He was disturbingly charmed when Madara laughed again. “Savor my pain? That does sound like you. Alright, let’s go then. You know you have to actually be believable if you want to earn anything in return. I’m not paying for a service that doesn’t deliver.”

“I am not a _service_ ,” Tobirama gritted out. “Call me that again and your entire office will hear about that time you lit your hair on fire trying to fix our barbeque.”

“Alright! Alright! Shutting up!” Madara pouted but there didn’t seem to be any true heat behind it, just the usual bickering that was always there between them. Tobirama gave the man a warning look before jerking his thumb at the car and unlocking the doors with his key fob.

They ended up sniping at each other for the entire drive. Not a serious fight, really. More of a lazy bantering, a trading of casual insults, and by the time they arrived Tobirama was feeling more relaxed than he had in days. He was careful not to think about the implications of that as he left his keys with the valet and opened the door to offer Madara his hand getting out. Now that they were in view of the building the party was being held in he put on his most charming smile, the one that got him out of trouble every time he blew something up at his own workplace.

“Here we are _snookums_ ,” he deadpanned. Madara glared.

“You are _not_ going to call me that.”

“I need some sort of pet name,” Tobirama protested avidly. “What about peachy pie? No? Baby doll? Sweet cheeks? _Daddy_.” His voice dropped three octaves on the last one and he reveled in the way Madara’s cheeks lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Absolutely not! You don’t need a pet name to sell this! I hate pet names anyway.”

If he weren’t so busy snickering Tobirama might have slumped with relief. He’d never been all that fond of pet names either but if there was one thing he had learned from watching Hashirama’s long string of girlfriends when they were younger it was that most people felt the need to stake their claim and pet names was the most common method he’d observed.

“Just make sure at least most of the people here can reasonably believe we’re in love or whatever and you can ask me for anything you want at the end of the night. Within reason.” Madara concealed a glare by sending him a dangerous smile as they passed through the front doors. “Don’t ask me for anything gross or I’ll deck you.”

Tobirama wondered what he could possibly ask for that would be considered gross but he chose not to probe for examples. It was probably best he not delve in to the dark corners of Madara’s imagination.

For the first ten or so minutes they were able to avoid any social contact by lingering near the coat check and pretending to have a hushed conversation. Mostly they were trading judgmental observations on what some of Madara’s coworkers had chosen to wear, roasting everyone in sight without mercy, but the smiles they were wearing hopefully made it look like they were flirting shamelessly, too wrapped up in each other to really join the party.

That lasted only until Madara’s boss spotted them.

“Ah, Uchiha, so you finally show your face at one of these shindigs! And I see you’ve brought the man we’ve all heard nothing about.”

“Otsutsuki-sama, may I introduce my partner Tobirama.” Madara dipped his head in deference to the older man before ushering Tobirama forward with a jab in the back disguised as a gently guiding hand.

“Here I’d begun to question if you truly existed.” Otsutsuki Hagoromo had a booming laugh, one that filled the room and made his conversational victims cringe. Tobirama bore up under that laugh with a stiff expression that smoothed itself out in to a falsely bashful smile just in time.

“You’ll have to excuse me,” he murmured. “With the hours I work I’m afraid I just can’t feel guilty for monopolizing his time when I am able.”

Behind his superior’s back Madara rolled his eyes.

“Well, well, a romantic I see! Oh to be young again. Ah, I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me, it is an absolute pleasure to meet you at last but I have a few higher ups to schmooze while they all have wine in their hands. Uchiha. Tobirama-san. A good night to you both.” He waved off their polite nods before disappearing across the room and inserting himself seamlessly in to a conversation with several other men and women in clothes that just screamed _money_.

Madara side eyed his companion. “Nice. Subtle.”

“I can be subtle if I need to.”

“Here comes your brother. Let’s see if he can do the same.”

“Not likely.”

Hashirama was beaming when he came in to view, standing as tall as he could and all but dripping with pride to be leading Mito around. Admittedly, she did look gorgeous. Tobirama supposed he would have walked a little taller too if he were leading around someone so effortlessly regal.

She greeted them both by looking them down and back up then giving a quiet hum as if to pronounce their appearance acceptable.

“Do try not to offend too many people, won’t you dears? With you two working together for once the rest of us can only sit back and await certain disaster. Or tears. It’s a tossup, really.” Her red lipstick only enhanced the evil hiding underneath her poised veneer. Tobirama considered playing innocent but it really wasn’t worth it. She knew him too well.

“I make no promises. My job here is to be in love.”

“Yes and you’re just _perfect_ for the part, aren’t you?” Mito’s expression didn’t change but Tobirama felt the meaning of her words settle on his shoulders like heavy weights. Without moving his gaze from hers he wove his left arm around Madara’s right, ignoring Hashirama as he leaned forward to say something.

“Keep your mouth shut, Uzumaki, or I might open mine.”

He lifted both eyebrows at her meaningfully and pulled Madara away towards the drink table. She wasn’t the only one who had secrets to spill.

On the way to get drinks they were accosted by a young woman wearing a dress visibly a full size smaller than it should have been. Her breasts were all but spilling out the top as she leaned in close to greet Madara with the expression of a beast on the prowl, entirely ignoring the fact that there was another person attached to her chosen target.

“I’m _so_ glad you could make it tonight,” she said after ignoring the introductions Madara tried to make. “I had dinner before I came but now that you’re here I get a show.” Her words would have been suggestive enough even without the salacious wink. Tobirama was both pleased and amused to see how uncomfortable his date was to be the focus of such attentions, panic written in the lines of tension gathering at the corners of his eyes.

“Terumi-san. We were just–”

“Don’t go so soon! There’s music playing, come dance with me!”

“I don’t think so.” The moment he realized he had a ready-made excuse was obvious in the way his head whipped around to leer at Tobirama in a way he never would have otherwise. “How could I leave my date all by himself so early in the night?”

Tobirama held off on offering an opinion, warring with himself internally. On the one hand he could not deny that he would love to watch how uncomfortable it would make Madara to be forced in to dancing with this coworker he clearly didn’t like, though for some reason didn’t want to offend too much. But on the other hand he also couldn’t deny the hot flash of jealously that ran through him at the idea of seeing anyone else’s hands all over the one _he_ was supposed to be spending the evening with. He did have a bit of a tendency to get territorial.

Which, he realized, was a very poor habit to indulge now of all times. Madara was hardly his in any way and it would not end well to start thinking of him like that.

“My apologies – Terumi-san, was it? – but Dara promised he wouldn’t leave my side tonight.” He offered the woman a falsely apologetic smile and gently pulled them both in another direction. The glare she sent him was almost worth this entire evening just for the satisfaction of knowing he had thwarted whatever gross designs she had on Madara’s person.

As the two of them walked off he winced at the fingers digging in to his arm.

“Dara!?” Madara hissed in his ear.

“Yes, I think I found a pet name I like.”

“By mutilating mine!?”

“That’s why I like it.” Tobirama smiled at someone as they walked passed, doing his best to project happiness and holiday cheer. If these were people that knew him they would expect nothing but a closed expression and cutting remarks, two things he was good at. He could still see Hashirama across the room swooning over the chance to watch him acting so friendly. No doubt he would be hearing some version of the Happy Big Brother speech later and be forced to listen to at least ten minutes of comments on how sweet he looked with a smile on his face.

A wildly misguided sentiment. He’d never looked sweet in his life.

Most of the conversations they got dragged in to for the first hour were short bouts of small talk, introductions and brief greetings before the two of them claimed to be moving on. They managed a full circle around the perimeter before a pair of elderly gentleman trapped them in one place to talk about how well Madara had done with the last project he’d worked on. It was easy enough to listen to, no responses required on his part, and Tobirama was glad of the chance to just stand there quietly.

He had mostly drifted off in to his own head when his ears just barely managed to pick up on a comment that brought him crashing right back down to earth.

“– just so charming, the way he looks at you,” one of the old men was saying. Tobirama found himself looking straight in to Madara’s eyes suddenly when his companion whipped his head to the side. The man chuckled at them. “See what I mean? That loving smile. Forty years and my wife still looks at me just like that when she thinks I’m not paying attention.”

“We’re hardly married,” Tobirama grumbled in embarrassment. Then he remembered himself and forced out a shy smile, adding, “Yet.”

“Oh ho ho! This one has designs on you, Uchiha!”

“Hmm.” Madara shifted his weight, visibly uncomfortable, and Tobirama looked away.

Playing the part was already going too far; he was already getting a bit too cozy in his role and letting slip more than he should. Feeling the precipice creeping up on him, he looked around them frantically for a distraction or a way to move along from this turn in the conversation. The dance floor he dismissed immediately. No way was he going to subject himself to holding Madara so close and swaying back and forth in awkward circles with nowhere to direct their attention but at each other.

A little desperate, his eyes lit up when they landed on the table full of snacks they had already walked passed once but avoided at the time because Hashirama had been there feeding Mito with his fingers while a middle-aged woman watched them with jealousy clear in her eyes. According to Madara she was from accounting and she’d had a massive crush on Hashirama since the day she got hired.

“They’re serving those little sandwiches you like,” he murmured, just quiet enough to make it seem like he was trying to say it privately but just loudly enough to allow himself to be overheard. “I’m feeling a little peckish, let’s go over and grab a bite to eat, yeah?”

“Good idea,” Madara hopped on the suggestion almost aggressively. They made their excuses and pulled away from the conversation to head over to the snack table.

Neither of them spoke as they filled their little paper plates with whatever was closest to hand – although Tobirama did notice Madara grabbing some of the snacks he had pointed out, stupid little cucumber sandwiches he seemed overly fond of for some reason. Tobirama wished he could remember why he knew that they were Madara’s favorite or why he had cared to remember enough to point them out. He also wondered why he felt the need to expose the fact that he knew so much about his companion.

Luckily Madara said nothing on the subject. After they had both filled their plates they shuffled off to find a dark corner so they could make it look like they were having an intimate moment and discourage anyone else from talking to them for a while. Tobirama nibbled on some cheese and occupied himself with watching the people brave enough to fill the dance floor, wondering how many of them had needed alcohol to loosen their courage.

He looked over with interest when Madara snorted suddenly.

“What?”

“Check out Sarutobi-san over there. He’s going to take someone’s eye out flailing his arms around like that.”

“Is that his wife in the red dress? She looks embarrassed.”

“That is indeed his wife.” Madara snickered and hid them both in the volume of his hair so no one would see them laughing at other people’s attempts at dancing. Tobirama held his breath and refused to get lost in the scent of his companion’s shampoo. He’d never been afraid of a little self-torture but this was getting more ridiculous by the hour.

Privacy was lovely but it couldn’t last very long at a party filled with so many people curious about Madara’s mysterious partner. Several more people stopped by their corner to introduce themselves and inspect Tobirama with an almost uncomfortable intensity. Most of them went away again as soon as their curiosity was satisfied while others had to be redirected to some other activity with smooth distractions and subtle suggestions.

Eventually their luck ran out, however, and one of Madara’s coworkers kept them trapped in a very uncomfortable conversation about how they met and fell in love. Tobirama thought he did a pretty good job of describing the feeling of slowly awakening feelings once they got to know each other through a ‘mutual acquaintance’ but he could have done without the funny looks Madara kept sending him when the woman wasn’t looking. Just because he chose to keep these sorts of things private most of the time didn’t mean he was incapable of enjoying a little romance or feeling the softer spectrum of emotions. He was human, after all.

And then came the moment when the woman happened to glance up above their heads and began to giggle. Tobirama looked up as well – then paused to stare in horror at the sprig of mistletoe hanging directly over top of him. How had he not seen that?

“Oh yes! Yes, let’s see a cute little kiss between the happy couple!” She turned to call her friend over. “Where’s your phone? Can I borrow it to take a picture?”

“We don’t really need pictures,” Madara grumbled.

“Nonsense! We’ve got to get proof of this gorgeous young man before he disappears for another year of missed parties!” Her laugh sounded more like an ominous cackle as her friend hurried over to open the camera on her phone and usher the two of them to stand closer.

Tobirama prayed his pale skin wasn’t showing as much heat as he could feel in his cheeks. “We’re not really much for public affection,” he tried to say but both of the ladies waved him off like his comfort level couldn’t matter less to them.

“It’s just one kiss,” one of them wheedled.

“Won’t even take a moment,” the other added.

Peeking out the corner of one eye, he saw the way Madara was looking back at him dubiously and couldn’t decide if he wanted to roll his eyes at the suspicion in that expression or if he wanted to cringe at what was clearly distaste for the very idea of them kissing. He wasn’t that bad looking, was he? Even if they weren’t the best of friends it still shouldn’t have been that big of a deal to just give him one quick little kiss.

Nevertheless, it seemed they weren’t going to be able to politely refuse these ladies and angrily refusing them would ruin the image of a happy couple that he had agreed to present for the night. Forcing out a chuckle as though he were only a little bit embarrassed, Tobirama turned to face his ‘partner’ and gave a sheepish smile.

“Just something small,” he murmured.

Then before Madara could stop him he leaned over and pressed a quick smooch against the man’s cheek. He must have shaved just before they came here because his skin was perfectly smooth without a single hint of stubble. It was as distractingly pleasant as his cologne, an enticing scent that Tobirama had been trying very hard to ignore all evening but filled his senses now like a knee-weakening fog.

When he pulled away he was blushing lightly and hoping Madara would assume it to be just part of the act. Hopefully the ladies crowding them had gotten what they wanted because he absolutely was not doing that again. If he did his head would probably implode.

Avoiding Madara’s gaze was easy while he let the two women gush over them and then carefully maneuvered them to head somewhere else for a while. Tobirama checked his watch when they were finally alone again and sighed.

“How long do we need to stay here?” he asked. Madara leaned in closer to peek at his wrist.

“Another half hour should do it. From what I hear, most of these idiots will be drunk by then.”

He was right. A half hour later and the large majority of party-goers were so deep in to their cups that several of them mistook Tobirama for someone who worked in their office. One older gentleman even pulled him aside to stage whisper in his ear asking if he had seen Madara’s supposed boyfriend around lately. It would have been much more amusing if the guy hadn’t spit all over his ear while doing so, sending him to the bathroom to wipe himself down with wet paper towels.

When he got back Madara was in the process of being forced on to the dance floor by a woman who seemed to be having trouble with her three inch heels, ankles wobbling dangerously in a way that made him cringe. Tobirama inserted himself between them and passed the woman off to someone else dancing alone.

“Sorry but I’m going to have to steal my partner back,” he told her with false politeness. “Perhaps this gentleman could entertain you?” The man he dropped the lady on looked all too happy with his new company. It was a good enough distraction that Tobirama managed to drag his companion away without a single protest, hurrying off before they could get trapped in the mass of writhing bodies slowly breaking away from stately waltzes and turning more towards the inappropriate grinding one might expect to find in a nightclub.

“You came just in time,” Madara hissed. Tobirama chose to take that as thanks.

“Hmm, you’re welcome. We can go now right?”

“Absolutely. Let’s get the hell out of here.” His companion shuddered as though the very thought of further socializing was abhorrent. Tobirama would have called him out on being rude if he hadn’t actually happened to agree. His nice quiet house was calling him.

The valet looked suspiciously unsteady when he stepped out of Tobirama’s car to give him back the keys, although the reasons seemed not to be alcohol-related but more having something to do with the young man in a rumpled shirt trying to look casual where he was half hiding behind a decorative tree. Madara sneered but Tobirama said nothing. They slid in to the car and took off without another word.

Most of the drive was silent. Both of them were worn out from playacting for so long, staying on their tiptoes and being careful of every word they spoke. It was a relief to just enjoy a bit of quiet company now. Not even the radio interrupted them as they rolled through the snowy streets and glided smoothly in to Madara’s driveway.

“Aren’t you going to walk me to my door like a proper date?” Madara snickered when Tobirama didn’t seem to be moving. He stopped snickering when Tobirama unclipped his seatbelt.

“Yes, actually, I have something to discuss with you.”

“Finally going to tell me what demands you have for doing this stupid favor?”

“Indeed.” Tobirama stepped out in the snow and spoke overtop of the car’s hood. “I’ll tell you at the door so there’s room to run if you get violent.”

Blatantly ignoring the apprehensive way Madara was looking at him now, he shut the car door, pocketed his keys, and gestured for the other man to walk ahead first, gently subservient like any proper date. He waited until Madara had unlocked the front door and turned to lift both eyebrows at him pointedly before sighing.

“Fine. Payment. In return for being your date to this stupid party…I want you to kiss me.”

“Say what?” Madara stared uncomprehendingly. Tobirama sighed and straightened his shoulders.

“A goodnight kiss. That’s my price.”

“What, seriously? That’s it?”

“Mhm.”

Clearly suspicious, Madara waited a few seconds just to see if he would start laughing. When he didn’t Madara shrugged and tilted his lips down in a ‘why not’ sort of expression. “Fine? I guess?”

Permission given, Tobirama went in without waiting.

He may have been taller but Madara was standing on the step above him so when he cupped a hand around the man’s neck he had to drag downwards and lift himself up to press their lips together. All things considered, it was a pretty fantastic kiss. It was slow, gentle, passionate, everything they had never been towards each other and everything he longed for so deeply.

But it couldn’t go on forever no matter how much he wished it would. Tobirama waited until Madara made some sort of indecipherable noise low in his throat before pulling away, his eyes fluttering open to meet the dark, confused gaze boring in to him.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, “for tonight.”

“Uh…”

“Goodnight, Madara.” Tobirama dropped his gaze and turned away, not bothering to wait for a reaction of any kind. When the man’s brain finally caught up to what just happened he didn’t want to be there to see the confused disgust. He already knew his interest would be rejected, he didn’t need to hear it.

He was in the car and halfway down the driveway before Madara moved but Tobirama didn’t give the poor sod a chance to catch him. His tires spun a little on the snow with how hard he pressed the gas but as soon as they caught purchase on the pavement underneath the car leapt forward and he was flying down the road at speeds that probably far exceeded the limit, though he didn’t bother to check. At the moment all he cared about was escaping the scene of the crime.

The crime being falling in love with an idiot who had never bothered to notice.

Getting home that night felt a lot like the walk of shame he’d heard so much about in movies. He hadn’t even done anything particularly bad and he still felt a little degraded, a little like he had lowered himself to doing something that would come back to haunt him later. Which, of course, he had. Looking Madara in the eye again promised to be the most excruciating embarrassment he ever suffered and he wasn’t entirely sure that one moment of bliss had been worth it.

Sure, he’d gotten everything he ever wanted for one night. But now he had to live with the knowledge that it had all been pretend and Madara had actively disliked every minute of it. If that wasn’t enough to convince him it was time to become a hermit then he didn’t know what was. Or maybe a nun. Did they let men become nuns?

Within five minutes of getting home he had exchanged his fancy trousers for pajama pants, grabbed a pint of Hashirama ‘fix everything’ ice cream, and flopped down on to the couch with the TV on but the lights left off. He felt a lot like a mopey child sitting there with a fancy shirt buttoned over pajama bottoms and sulking in to a frozen dessert but he figured there was no one here to see him; if he wanted to be attentive to his own broken heart then that was his own damn business.

Flicking through the channels, he settled on a random show that looked like it was action based and slumped down in to one corner of the couch. When he heard the door open only a few bites of ice cream later he sighed, disappointed that Hashirama had come home so soon. If there was anyone who would not judge him for his method of coping it was the Cry Baby King himself but he had hoped Hashirama would stay out a little while longer and enjoy his evening with Mito. Actually he’d sort of been hoping the man would go home with Mito and leave him to his misery.

“You were right, I guess,” he said as soon as he heard footsteps entering the room. “I will say that _once_ and you will not mock me for it. But…yeah. You said I would only get hurt. I should have listened. Older brother advice and all that.”

Hashirama said nothing, the silence stretching out until Tobirama could practically feel the weight of those eyes on him and he snapped, waving his spoon through the air.

“What do you want? I said you were right. I never should have gone along with his stupid plan. I got hurt. So what? I’ll just move to Suna or something and bury my head in the sand so I never have to speak to him again. Or run away to Kiri. I hear it rains a lot there; I like rain.”

More silence followed, prompting him to viciously dig at his ice cream.

“Look, if you can be dramatic every damn day then I get to do it just once. Now get over here and eat this for me because it’s _disgusting_. How do you eat this? And why? I don’t feel any better just because I’m shoving frozen sugar in my face.” Tobirama sighed. “Just made me feel more pathetic, actually. I mean, what did I think would happen? That he would suddenly open his eyes and magically fall for me like one of your stupid romantic comedies? Why did I kiss him!? I could have just asked him to do something terrible and embarrassing and he never would have known about my feelings–”

“You should know that I am not Hashirama.”

“Oh.” Eyes wide and heart suddenly lodged in the base of his throat, Tobirama nodded slowly. “Fantastic.”

He heard the footsteps come nearer and closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see Madara’s expression after listening to him make an even bigger fool of himself. Every muscle in his body was held so taut he was almost surprised that none of them snapped. His chest was already seizing and desperate for air. Then he felt the couch dip next him and he immediately began calculating how much faster he could run than the idiot who just sat down beside him.

“So…” Madara drawled. “That kiss.”

“I’m sorry but that transaction has already concluded and I have no further business with you.” Tobirama cracked his eyelids to glare straight ahead of himself, ignoring the irritated huff to his right.

“Don’t be childish.”

“Hey, you’re the one who chased me down,” he pointed out. Every cell in his body was screaming with a fight or flight response and trying to accomplish both at the same time. Madara, apparently, was unimpressed.

A finger poked him in the side of the head as his companion said, “Only because you ran away. I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting that kiss.”

“I hope you’re not expecting this conversation to get you anything either because it won’t. You can go now.” Tobirama sank further in to the corner of the couch and brought up a mental map of the house, trying to plan out the perfect route to take so he could escape out the front door. Once he was on open ground there was no one who could catch him.

He flinched and lost his train of thought when Madara gave a noise of disgust, growling. “Can you be serious? I’m trying to have an adult conversation here.”

“And I’m half in my pajamas eating someone else’s ice cream, I don’t know that I qualify for that right now.”

“Just, UGH!” Fingers appeared in front of him, wrapping themselves in the front of his shirt to pull him around to face the angry Uchiha frowning in an unfairly sexy manner. “You can’t just kiss someone like _that_ and leave! I came over here to get some answers but then you said – it sounded like you were saying you’re like…in love with me or something.” As he spoke he slowly deflated from angry to just confused and the sort of dangerous curiosity that so often got him and his best friend in to trouble.

Tobirama squirmed, uncomfortable with being confronted like this, but there was no escaping Madara’s direct gaze. Eventually all he could do was swallow against the lump in his throat and murmur, “Yes.”

“Seriously? Since _when_!?” Madara demanded.

“Does it matter? You don’t feel the same.” He wondered whether Madara would let go if he wriggled hard enough. Then he paused for a moment to listen to the dulcet tones of the other man spluttering with indignation, one of his favorite sounds in the world.

“Well I didn’t – you know – I had no idea that was a thing! An option!”

“Huh?”

“I just didn’t _think_ of it!” Madara slumped and tilted his head to pout at the back of the couch as he went on. “Of course I notice you’re _hot_ but you’re Hashirama’s little brother so I figured you were a non-option and just, you know, didn’t let myself get attached like that.”

Blinking slowly, Tobirama asked, “So, what, you would have been interested if you knew I was?”

“I could be interested now.” Madara flushed but brought his head back to stare almost defiantly in to Tobirama’s eyes. He had his shoulders up and back like he was bracing for a fight. It was almost cute, actually.

“Oh. Alright.” Tobirama floundered, trying to find a response for that while his head spun wildly. “So, uh, what? You want to…dinner?”

“Do I ‘want to dinner’? And here I thought you were supposed to be some kind of genius.”

Reeling back, Tobirama spat, “Oh fuck off!”

“It’d be better to fuck you.”

Both of their eyes blew out wide and Madara released Tobirama’s shirt to clap his hands over his mouth, obviously surprised by the words he’d just let slip. The two of them stared at each other with reddening cheeks, unsure of what to say, neither wanting to move first in case they did something else embarrassing that would only make this situation more awkward.

Eventually it was Tobirama who gave in. The only way for this entire episode to be over with was to figure out where exactly they were going from here. One of them had to be the one to speak and it might as well be him.

“I would not be opposed to that but I’d like to be square on what we’re doing, here. Are you just interested in the fucking itself or would you be interested in the dinner too?” Realizing he still wasn’t being clear, he frowned. “And by dinner I mean me. Would you be interested in me too? Like, to date?”

“Oh my god stop, it’s so painful.”

“Hey!”

“If either one of us gets any more awkward we’ll implode. _Yes_ , I would be interested in dinner – and everything else you actually meant by ‘dinner’.” Madara gave him a significant look and Tobirama subsided with a flush.

That was fair. Neither of them was good at this, it seemed. Apparently it ran in both of their families.

“Are you free tomorrow?” he asked hesitantly.

“I’m free tonight,” Madara said, giving him another look that he didn’t understand.

“Didn’t you eat dinner before the party?”

Rather than answer what he would later admit was a very obtuse question, Madara rolled his eyes and leaned forward to pull Tobirama in for a second kiss that somehow managed to curl his toes even more than the first. A low groan rumbled out of his throat and Tobirama easily followed when he felt himself being pulled closer. Just knowing they were both on the same page this time, that they both _wanted_ it this time, made the entire experience so much better.

Tilting his head for a better angle, he parted his lips for a deeper kiss as he reached out blindly to deposit his ice cream on the end table next to the couch. For once he didn’t give a single thought to how the condensation might ruin the wood. He was too wrapped up in Madara to care about anything as silly as the condition of his brother’s furniture.

Well and truly lost in the other man, Tobirama could not have said if they kissed for five minutes or an hour. Nor did he care. After going so long thinking he would never have a chance he thought he deserved to enjoy his moment of triumph while it lasted. Sure he was in love with Madara but he wasn’t blinded enough by his own affection to forget that their relationship would always be slightly volatile. And while he was of the opinion that it would only keep things interesting he also knew it would cut down on the frequency of soft moments like these.

Eventually they did have to pull apart though, if only because they both froze at the sound of a car outside and for a few horrible seconds assumed Hashirama was home to interrupt them. They both slumped with relief when the car passed by and continued down the street but by that time the mood was ruined.

“So, in answer to your earlier question,” Madara said, running his fingers along the tattoo on Tobirama’s right cheek, “I am, in fact, free tomorrow night. Would you like to come over for dinner at my place?”

“Yes. I would like that.” Tobirama didn’t bother to resist the smile on his face. Why should he deny himself?

Hoping that Hashirama would stay out at the party for at least another little while, the two of them settled back against the couch to enjoy each other’s warmth and pass what remained of the evening with light banter. Bickering had always been the foundation of most of their interactions, adding romance to the mix was hardly going to change that. They were both smiling as they took shots at each other, though, and that was what mattered the most.

Well, that and the fact that Tobirama would later be treated to the opportunity to rub it in his brother’s face that he had been right. Everything had turned out just fine.


End file.
